Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Seychelles and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Sonics to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marvin Gaye,
Oblivians,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fluxion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Real Kids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skarface,
Faraquet,
Panda Bear,
Technova,
Moby Grape,
Subhumans,
LL Cool J,
The Music Machine,
Fat Boys,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed,
Carl Craig,
Section 25,
Los Fastidios,
Judy Mowatt,
Nils Olav,
Lakeside,
Donny Hathaway,
Grey Daturas,
The Mojo Men,
Ituana,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harry Pussy,
The Trojans,
Laurel Aitken,
the Normal,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soft Cell,
Gang of Four,
a-ha,
Ten City,
Yaz,
Kaleidoscope,
Jerry's Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pierre Henry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Matthew Halsall,
Electric Prunes,
Steve Hackett,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Piero Umiliani,
Janne Schatter,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Severed Heads,
Jacob Miller,
Arcadia,
Lou Christie,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.